


The Talk

by wicked3659



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus needs to talk to Prowl about his muttering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eerian_sadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/gifts).



> For eerian_sadow's birthday. I hope this helps cheer you up some. 
> 
> Inspired by the RID comics the scene ether Optimus States that they've talked about his muttering. I can't remember which issue it was ^^;;

"Prowl."

The aforementioned mech looked up sharply as the larger mech cast a long shadow in his office. He’d partly been expecting him but it did not mean he was pleased to see him. “Prime,” he returned his gaze to his datapad. 

“So it’s just Prime now?” the red and blue mech asked as he came to a stop on the opposite side of Prowl’s desk. 

“It is what you prefer,” Prowl stated blandly. 

Optimus vented a deep sigh. “You know very well I meant when we were on duty. In private, it’s Optimus and has been for more vorns than I care to count.” 

“Forty two point six one,” Prowl replied, his optics not drifting from his datapad as he perused the data. 

“That long?” Optimus asked rhetorically, resignation in his tone. “Will it take another forty two vorns for you to stop hating me?” Optimus didn’t fail to notice the barely perceptible twitch in those black and white doorwings, so he wasn’t completely devoid of feeling then.

“I do not hate you,” Prowl replied after a long few kliks. “You have your reasons for doing what you do as I have mine. You did what you had to do,” he declared, keeping his impassive mask firmly in place.

Optimus bowed his helm slightly, optics dimming. “Prowl, my leaving had nothing to do with you, you must realise that?” 

“Evidently,” came the quiet reply. 

Moving around the table, Optimus removed the datapad from Prowl’s fingers, picking up the protesting flare of annoyance in the smaller mech’s energy field as he gently tugged him into standing so they could talk face to face. “Is it so hard to look at me when we talk?” 

Prowl leveled a hard glare at the Prime and folded his arms, waiting in stoic silence.

“What happened on Earth, my leaving, it was a different time. Things are different now. I wish you could give me a chance to --” 

“--to what? Make it up to me? Tell me you’re sorry that you abandoned us on that planet, apologise for leaving me behind and then being surprised when I actually took it personally? You already have my respect and loyalty as my leader and my Prime, you had my spark long before then, a decision undoubtedly stained with regret for us both. What is it you want from me, Optimus?”

Recoiling at the bitter tone, Optimus frowned slightly. “I don’t regret being your conjunx endura--”

“--endura!” Prowl scoffed. “That would require an active participation on your part would it not?”

“Look I know I haven’t been around or the most supportive but--”

“--but what?” 

“Would you stop interrupting me? Please?” Optimus gripped Prowl’s shoulder with exasperation before letting go and wilting where he stood. “I am here now, I am trying,” he gazed at Prowl in earnest. “Please, I do not want things to end, especially not like this.”

Prowl averted his optics, his mouth turning down at the corners. “Everything ends, you know that better than most.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Optimus replied, taking a tentative step closer. “You’re looking at the mech who makes a routine out of stubbornly refusing to deactivate, you think I’m just going to give up on us that easily?”

Prowl’s facade faltered and his doorwings drooped slightly. “I had wondered if you already had,” he responded, his optics dimming subtly. 

Stepping into his space, Optimus brushed his fingers down Prowl’s arm. “Not even in a million vorns,” he replied, his mouth curving into a smile behind his face mask. 

“Always the romantic, rushing in head first, guns a blazing, trying to save the galaxy, the hero without a plan,” Prowl commented, meeting Optimus’s gaze. His words were spoken with no malice, however. 

Optimus retracted his face mask and smiled warmly down at Prowl, pressing closer as he gently curled an arm about the smaller mech’s waist, drawing him flush to his frame. “Isn’t that why you fell for me in the first place? Besides, you always said I kept you around for a reason,” he smirked, his words playful as he gently trailed a finger over the striking red chevron. 

“Hmpff, cleaning up your messes, seemingly all I’m good for,” Prowl retorted with the faintest of smirks. It had been an argument they’d had many times, too many times, but right now, things felt like they once had. Prowl had almost given up any hope that they would ever feel this way again. Optimus always had managed to surprise him, though. 

“Not all you’re good for,” Optimus murmured, his tone low, husky as he leaned in to brush his lip plating over Prowl’s, enjoying the softest of mewls it pulled from the black and white before he pressed in for a deeper, more passionate kiss. It was a kiss borne of necessity and need. Much had happened between them, neither would deny that it had created a rift and yet neither of them seemed willing to let go. Optimus wasn’t sure if they were simply holding onto the past or if there were genuine feelings on both sides. His spark always roiled with emotion whenever he thought of Prowl. Some good, some not so good. Many words had been said in the heat of anger and many actions had been taken by them both in the art of war, theirs had been a union forged in fire and misery. Two lonely sparks that seemingly balanced each other, gave the other the strength and will to carry on. 

Their relationship had been secret from the moment it began, it wasn’t likely to change any time soon and that in itself had taken its toll. Optimus was well aware of the reputation that preceded Prowl and it burned his spark to know that his war had taken that innocent, passive mech he’d fallen for and turned him into a cold, calculating strategist. It had stressed their relationship to the point where Prowl had stopped divulging anything he did, or ordered others to do in the name of the Autobot cause. His reasoning, when Optimus had confronted him had been that, what a Prime didn’t know, he wasn’t responsible for. A Prime was an image, a symbol of purity and strength and Prowl had seen it as his duty to get his hands dirty with the decisions and orders, Optimus couldn’t make or give. 

As the war had evolved and changed so had they and their relationship. Despite their trials and their many estrangements, estrangements that would’ve had destroyed most relationships; neither one had walked away. They still fought and argued on duty and in private now, Prowl disagreed with him more often than not and always questioned his decisions and Optimus knew he always had a plan and even though he was never quite sure just how much trust he could place in the mech, he knew he wouldn’t leave him. Prowl could defect and Optimus would still love him, even if he could no longer see him or hold him. Something deep in his spark, in spite of his faltering trust in the mech and his plans, told him that Prowl would never betray the Autobots, would never join the Decepticons. Prowl held his spark just as much as he held Prowl’s, they were stuck together in sin of war now if now through love. 

Prowl broke the kiss first, his optics flickering slightly. “Mmm, did you come to see me just to seduce me, or did you actually need me to help with something?” he murmured. 

“While I do always enjoy seducing you, Prowl, there was something I wanted to speak with you about.” 

“Will it cause an argument?”

“It might?” 

Prowl nodded and extricated himself gently. “Then we should talk first, get it out of the way because I fully intend on being seduced afterwards.” 

Optimus couldn’t help but smile at that. “Alright. It’s about what you do when you speak to certain mechs, that isn’t productive.”

“Oh? Please enlighten me.” 

Optimus braced himself. “Well you mutter, quietly. I’ve heard and it’s usually because you’re insulting them, which seems so very emotional and illogical for you.”

“Do you have evidence to back up your accusation?” Prowl replied stoically. 

“Hot Rod, you do it to him especially, though I have heard you do it around others.” 

“Well, there’s no cure for idiocy, that certainly isn’t my fault,” Prowl answered pointedly. 

“Yes, but there’s really no need for the muttering. It doesn’t help and to be honest it’s probably why you get punched a lot,” Optimus grimaced at that.

Raising an optic ridge, Prowl folded his arms in a show of stubborn defiance. “They lash out with violence because they struggle to see the facts or admit the truth. I am simply the messenger.”

“Really?” Optimus replied dryly. “Not even I am naive enough to believe that, Prowl.”

“Well, like I said, there’s no cure for idiocy,” the black and white returned petulantly. 

Sighing and canting his helm at the mech in bemusement, Optimus half smiled. For an extremely intelligent mech, Prowl was pretty obtuse when he wanted to be. “Look, I’m not here to officially reprimand you--”

“--that is wise.”

Optimus continued unabashed. “But in the future, if you could refrain from inviting, the lashing out with violence, it would put my spark at ease and we would probably be able to resolve more disputes.”

“Are you ordering me?”

“I’m asking you,” Optimus placated gently. “Please stop the muttering, at the very least when the mech you’re muttering about is within audio shot?” Optimus waited, tense as Prowl pinned him with an unreadable stare, mouth pulled into a pert pout. 

“Alright.”

The red and blue mech deflated and smiled at his conjunx. “Thank you,” he moved closer and quickly, without any hesitation, gathered Prowl up in his arms and kissed him once more, pouring all his need and want into it. It had been such a long time since they’d had more than a breem alone together, he was going to make every klik worth their while. Breaking the passionate kiss, he mouthed over Prowl’s lip plating and reached over to his desk, to palm the door lock. “So about that seduction you were planning?” 

Prowl threw him a rare smile and pulled away to sit on his desk with an inviting and flirtatious flick of his doorwings. “It is all going according to plan,” he replied demurely, curling his arms about Optimus as he pressed closer and indulged in another heated kiss, with a low moan of want. 

Neither mech knew what tribulations they had yet to face in the coming vorns. They simply knew that no matter what, they would be side by side, for better or for worse and not without their fair share of bickering.

 

 


End file.
